The Calm Before The Storm
by TheResurrectionist
Summary: Outside POV on the Winchesters defending a diner. S3ish but has some mentions of season two. Rated T for swearing and possible graphic mentions of torture. Title taken from a PSB song. Awesome!Boyking!Sam and Scary!Awesome!Dean. PLEASE REVIEW.
1. Chapter 1

Diners were a point of suspension. People who came in were happy or sad, small families or tired truckers who wanted a full meal or two and a smile. I had no problem giving either, running plates and cups and coffee into the small hours of morning with a smile still smack dab in the middle of my face. Some people called it scary, but I disagreed. The kind of people who came into this diner, they needed a break. Needed a smile or two before they carried on.

In all my years of running a diner, I had become a good people reader. Who was dating who, fathers and daughters, who was in trouble and didn't know, people who needed some time alone (The ones I didn't bother) the children, the dangerous ones, the thoughtful ones, the polite ones. Brothers, sisters. The list goes on.

This was a good skill to have, it kept you safe and it pleased the customers. The second someone walked in the door, I knew what mood they were in and how to handle them (Because no one came into a diner completely happy) and I knew what they wanted.

It had been a long night during the winter when two boys walked in, one protectively behind the other. Both were tall and muscled, stances saying _fighter,_ which confused me a lot when I looked into the taller one's eyes. One pair was large, puppy dog like eyes, a fan of colors that drew you in and made you trust. But he also had old eyes, eyes that, like the cliché, had seen too much. I didn't know how a young man had a grandfather's eyes, but I didn't want to know. I smiled, and asked them what they wanted. The tall one had looked at me and smiled, revealing dimples.

"One table for me and my brother, please." He gestured to the brother, who was a few inches shorter but still tall. I caught my first glimpse of him, green eyed blonde in a leather jacket. He was beautiful, handsome like his brother appeared but different as well. His eyes were just as old, boring holes into mine as he stepped in front of his brother. It was a ridiculous gesture, anyway. I was a five foot three old lady. His brother was a sasquatch. What was I going to do?

He didn't seem to realize what he had done, reflexively scanning the room with eyes I remember my husband having years ago. Eyes that had seen war. Eyes that knew a bit more about what to look for.

He seemed to catch me staring, and gave me a smile.

I caught myself and smiled back. "This way please." I said, leading them to the booth at the back of the room. By their eyes, I figured they'd want to see people when they walked in.

They looked like they could be supermodels in those magazines my daughter reads, but they dressed like all the others on the road. Durable, thick clothing. Jeans and boots. The works.

They watched each other when they walked, which I found curious. I wondered if they even knew they did it. Within a space of two seconds, they had both checked on the other, eyes flicking to the other and then back before checking again for reassurance.

Odd.

I kept walking, seating them at the booth. Taking my pad out, I hid a smirk as the taller one had to fold himself into the seat. He obviously had done it many times. I wondered how long they'd been on the road.

"What'll you have?" I asked.

The green eyed one tilted his head, looking up at me. "How's your sausages?"

I smiled. "Best in state."

He smiled back. "Aww, you're just saying that, sugar."

"Would I lie?" I asked, batting my eyelashes. Well, this one was a charmer.

He laughed, the sound musical. His brother joined in, and I think it was one of the prettiest things I'd ever heard. They both had smile lines, contrasting to the frown marks on both boys' foreheads.

"Fine, the sasuage and a short stack. Since you say they're so good." he said.

The brother charmed in, brushing back silky brown hair. "I'll take some eggs over easy and a bowl of fruit."

"All right." I said, taking the orders down. "Any coffee?"

They both nodded, eyes still flicking back to the other. They looked relaxed to anyone that passed by, legs uncrossed and fingers unclenched, but I knew by their stances that they both had guns somewhere. _Don't ask_, was what my husband had told me. Every man carries his gun for a reason and I didn't want to know why these two did.

I took a deep breath, very confused but walking to turn in the order. My people skill sensor was off, telling me only what they'd revealed. They were brothers, and their eyes were old. They carried guns. A dangerous combination if I'd ever seen one, but by the look in their eyes, it was necessary.

I managed to look back at them through the kitchen. They seemed to be arguing.

"Dean," the taller one said to the green eyed man. "We need to do something about this."

"About what?" Dean replied. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not!" the taller one exclaimed. "You've got three weeks left. What are we supposed to do?"

Dean frowned. "I don't care what we do Sam, as long as we keep hunting the ugly."

Ugly?

Apparently, this displeased Sam. He leaned forward, lowering his voice.

"You think I don't know what you're doing?"

"What am I doing?" Dean asked with an almost cocky smile.

Sam suddenly clenched his hand, drawing the fist down away from his brother's face.

He spoke quietly. "You're almost done. And this is how you wanna go? Pretending everything's alright?"

Dean's face grew cold. "Sammy, that's the one thing I can do. You think I wanna die?"

Sam didn't get a chance to reply.

Just then, Mr. Lenith walked in, shotgun in hand, followed by ten or so of the townsmen.

"EVERYONE ON THE FLOOR, HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM." he shouted.

Everyone complied, scared faces disappearing as they lowered themselves to the floor.

I stood behind the desk, bending slowly because of my knees.

"Lou," I said quietly. "What are you doing? This is a diner, not a bank!"

His eyes snapped to me, crazy and looked completely black. "Shut up, old bitch. I just want the Winchesters, and I'll be gone." The rest of the kidnappers nodded. Oh my god. I recognized all of them.

Wait. Winchesters? Did he mean guns?

The boys had been ignored during our discussion, slowly edging to the sides of the room, eyes tracking each other and the gun still pointed at people.

"Meg," Sam said, hands raised and eyes focused on Mr. Lenith. "You don't want to do this."

Meg?

Lou's voice took on a sultry tone. "Stay out of this, Boy King. Dean Winchester is Hell's bitch already, so what if we take him a little early?"

Sam's nostrils flared, jaw clenching. "Over my dead body."

Lou smiled slowly. "Sadly, I can't do that. Big plans for you, Sammy Boy."

He tilted the gun over at me. I backed up on my knees, heart hammering.

"Doesn't mean I can't take a few meat suits out to convince you."

Dean and Sam both took a step forward, still in sync even when something like this was happening.

"Don't hurt a hair on her head." growled Dean. "I'll rip you to shreds, bitch."

Meg smiled again. "Come with me and we'll call it even, big boy."

Dean slowly stalked forward, hands out in front of him. "Fine." he said slowly.

Meg tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "What're you up to, Winchester?"

Dean frowned. "Nothing. I want to make sure everyone's okay before I go. That's my last request."

Meg shook her head. "Who cares about these humans?"

Dean did, apparently. "Ten minutes, you can watch me the whole time. All I'm asking for. Not much, considering what you're asking from me."

She nodded. "Alright. Make it five."

He got up, walked around the room and checking in on everyone. I could tell something was up.

A fighter like Dean wasn't going to give in that easy.

I stared at him, trying to figure out what was missing. Missing?

Oh. Sam. Where was Sam?

I discreetly panned the room, keeping my head low. I didn't see the boy's tall form anywhere. Actually, he was a man. No point pretending that when he was defending us.

I gave up, dropping my gaze to my knees as I gave up. Dean Winchester was going to die.

We probably were too, if I could tell by Lou's eyes.

I heard a small whisper behind me.

"Miss," I turned. "No, not that quick!" the voice whispered.

The person moved, revealing a tall man on his knees in front of me. It was Sam.

"Shhhhhh," he said softly. "Follow me."

I quietly did, praying no one noticed my absence.

When we got into the back store room, he turned to me and helped me up. He was really tall.

"Where's the water tank?"

"Water tank?" I asked dumbly, still in a little shock. I thought of something.

"Wait, she called you 'Boy King'. What does that mean? And why does she keep saying Dean's going to hell?" I began to get hysterical. "What's going on?"

He made calming gestures with his hands. "I need you to stay calm, okay. We need your help to defeat them, alright? But I can't do that if you're panicking."

I nodded, taking a deep breath.

He nodded as well. Reaching a hand behind him, he took out a silver gun.

"Alright," he said. "Where do you keep your salt?"

End of chapter one

PLEASE REVIEW IM SERIOUS


	2. Chapter 2

A/N I know you don't wanna hear how I'm a newbie and it means so much but all the reviews and favorites have really rocked my world. I wish I could upload a video of my happiness (Seriously, there was jumping involved) But, here's chapter two. Warning: Not the epilogue.

XXX

I had to admit his plan was a little crazy. Okay, it was really crazy, and I'd seen a lot of crazy stuff. But I knew that only he and his brother could help us, so whatever he wanted, he should get.

The salt I'd kept over from the winter was still in bags out by the back exit. Walking on quiet feet, Sam had deftly grabbed the bags and brought them over to the rest of our supplies. He quickly emptied them into old cups I'd kept in the room.  
He'd paused, making a quick inventory. "Miss," he said.  
"Crystal, dear." I said to him, feeling every year of my life. My parents had been eccentric, so what?  
He blushed. So he was still polite. "Miss Crystal, do you have a cross?"  
I frowned. What was he gathering? It looked like preparations for Jesus worshipping plow workers or something crazy like that.  
"I don't. I'm sorry."  
His eyes caught mine, pupils dilated in adrenaline and anxiety. I understood. People were in danger out there, and it all depended on him.  
He seemed to look around, weighing his options.  
Our options, I reminded myself.  
"Alright," he said, throwing the salt to the side. "Let's do this the hard way, then.  
When I say so, I need you to take this salt and throw it at Lou and the other gunmen."  
I didn't understand. "What are those things? Cause I know Lou and he would never do something like that. He's not like that"  
He sighed, tucking the gun away. "We don't have a lot of time to explain, but those are demons."  
Demons? "What are you talking about, like stuff in the bible?"  
He sighed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot. "Exactly. As dangerous as you think they are, they're twice as bad."  
Well, that was good. I really liked the odds.  
I took a deep breath, and pinched my nose. He didn't need to hear me whine at him.  
I looked at him. "What can I do?"  
He smiled.  
XXXXSPNXXXXXXX  
"Dean, hurry it up! Time to go! I don't know why you insist on checking the meat suits!  
I heard Meg/Lou yelling at Dean, demons crowding around with what looked like a pair of shackles.  
Keeping low to the floor, I followed Sam's plan and got back on my knees behind the table, praying no one noticed our absence.  
Dean kept on talking to a young woman, and I caught part of the conversation. I admit I wasn't sure why he was checking on all the people either. Seemed like a sorta weird request.  
"Hey," I heard him say softly, getting on his knees in front of her. I realized some of the patrons must have injured themselves getting to the ground, and were probably a little scared.  
He approached her like a person would a frightened, wild animal.  
"My name's Dean Winchester. What's yours?"  
She trembled a little, blonde hair and blue eyes making her appear like a child. "Alyssa."  
"Hi Alyssa," he said, giving her a disarming smile. "Me and my brother, we're gonna get you through this, ya hear?" he said, voice giving away a drawl I'd heard in Sam's as well. Country boys. Hmmm.  
She nodded, grabbing his hand and pointing at one of the demons. "Please, make sure my son gets out okay." I looked over to see one of the demons cradling a young boy with a shock of black hair, blue eyes wide as the demon whispered anything but sweet nothings in his ear.  
Dean's eyes flashed, and for a second I truly saw the man. Anger spread across his face, but just as quick a mask of cool precision covered it. He nodded, then looked back at her.  
"I'll do it. I promise nothing will happen to your son."  
She nodded, eyes still terrified, but putting on a brave face for the beautiful man in front of her.  
He smiled, tight and quick as he got up to his feet in one smooth, liquid motion.  
"Alright, bitch. You've got me. Ready to go yet? I mean, I'm sure Lucifer has other stuff to do than wait on me." he said cockily, attitude flaring, daring her to drag him down.  
She sneered, hands clenching on the gun. "Officially, yes. But I'm sure he'll make time for you."  
He stood up tall, hands thrust forward, inviting the demons to put the shackles on.  
They almost had, until a soft word broke the motion.  
"Stop." said Sam as he walked in from the back of the diner, eyes intent and just as determined as his brother's.  
Meg sighed dramatically, putting a hand on her hip. "Winchesters, always delaying! I'm tired of screwing around. I'm taking your brother and there's nothing you can do about it."  
Sam seemed to grow taller, even, shadows falling across his face, making his eyes appear almost dangerous. "I'm here now, isn't that enough?" he asked almost jokingly, head tilted to the side, smile anything but humorous.  
Meg gave a shrill shriek of anger. "I am so sick and…..tired…..of you STUPID HUNTERS."  
Dean spoke up. "I'm kinda tired of you too, sweet cheeks."  
She turned to him. "We're leaving now. I don't know what you thought you were going to do Sam, but it isn't going to work. Wait a few years and we'll come back for you. We do have plans for you, after all."  
She smiled. "Just wait your turn.." she said in a voice that made my stomach turn.  
The demons formed a circle, placing the shackles on Dean without a fight. He stood tall, almost like he was commanding them and not the other way around. His eyes were still flicking to Sam's, and a silent agreement was reached.  
The demons began chanting, and a wind picked up in the diner. Ozone flooded the room as a red hole opened up in the middle of the linoleum floor.  
Oh, god what was happening? Demons I could maybe handle. A doorway to hell? Whole 'nother pan of biscuits.  
Dean was still, eyes catching Sam's again in one last look. He reached one hand up as the wind came to a crescendo.  
"SAM! LIKE WE PLANNED! NOW!"  
End of chapter two


	3. Chapter 3

"SAM! LIKE WE PLANNED! NOW!"

* * *

Sam's eyes locked with his brother's, seeming to flash yellow as he directed his gaze at the ceiling. He brought up his right hand, curling it into a fist and wrenching it through the air savagely. I saw that his were indeed yellow, glowing and unearthly as he concentrated on the ceiling and walls of the diner as his hands seemed to grasp something unseen.

A low groaning sound could be heard, pipes shifting in the walls and plaster floating down over our heads. I realized then that the building was bending to Sam's will, he the master and the building his clay. And I realized right then that Sam and Dean were more special than I'd ever imagined. More dangerous.

All of this happened within a second, demons staring at Sam's display of power. They were still staring as the walls buckled, pipes bursting and spraying water everywhere.

My view of Sam and the demons was limited, but I thought I saw most of the demons try to get away. The second the water washed over them, they were screaming, steam pouring out of their skin as wails rang out.

All I could see was black black black. Black eyes and screams, a flash of skin, a flash of yellow eyes and a pair of green matching and apart. It was chaos at its best and worst, and I understood why some people never recovered from PTSD. It seemed too real.

And at the same time, not.

Black smoke was filling the diner, and my brain worried about a fire for a second until the more reasonable part laughed and said,

_Crystal, the diner's filled with water. Where's the fire?_

I realized the smoke was coming from the demon's mouths, emptying from their hosts after being drenched in what I'd have called acid if I didn't know better.

Sam had murmured something about holy water and pipes, but I'd stopped listening after the directions of _stand behind the desk_ and _throw salt on anything that touches you._ I guess not paying attention in a time like this wasn't smart, but a girl can only handle so many supernatural revelations at one time. And seriously, I was getting too old for this.

The young mother I'd seen Dean comfort suddenly was next to me, sobbing hysterically.

"I've lost him, I lost my baby! He's dead. God!" she cried, hands catching on nothing, water swirling around both of us. I grabbed her shoulder firmly, and forced her to look me in the eyes.

"Hon, your baby'll be fine." I didn't know that, but God, I could hope as well as the rest of them. "You gotta stop screamin' and calm down for me. Can you do that?" I asked, creepily mirroring Sam's patient words from earlier. I could almost see my eyes, probably an exact match for Sam's when he spoke to me. Puppy-like and pleading. And I understood why.

There was no freaking out in this type business.

She nodded, eyes wild but calming down. "Okay."

We held to each other after that, two drowned rats in a storm neither of us knew existed.

I shifted, trying to see more of the fight that had broken out while I'd hidden.

I could see Sam's face as he shouted with Meg, Dean nowhere in sight. I could barely make out their words as they screamed at each other, Meg black-eyed and barely holding herself in her host, Sam yellow-eyed and nothing to be reckoned with.

"IT'S OVER MEG," he shouted to her, and damn if it didn't seem like the most funny/apocalyptic break up scene I'd ever witnessed. (And I ran a diner)

"GIVE ME THE CHILD." he shouted, and I realized she held something wet and shivering in her arms, nails tight and cutting into soft flesh. The baby.

Sam apparently knew the odds, knew what the baby was worth to Meg, but kept his face stoic, eyes commanding a power I hadn't seen in years. How odd that such a young man had old eyes, I'd thought earlier. Eyes that, as they quickly flashed towards me, showed nothing human.

I shivered, not sure if it was from the chilly water or the oldest eyes I'd ever seen.

Meg, currently, was clinging to the baby like it was her last hope, and in a way, it was. The "Winchesters" had scattered her demons, and she was barely holding on, lips pressed white and hands clenched around the poor child, who looked terrified.

"Sammy," she said, voice carrying even though she was speaking at a normal volume. "Don't make me do this."

Her voice got crazier. "You don't want more blood on your hands, huh? Cause I know I'm going to win this!"

And, in the most badass move I'd seen in a while, Dean Winchester rose up behind her, somehow out of his cuffs, and pointed a shotgun at her head.

"No, you're not, Bitch." he said coolly, pulling the trigger while wrenching the baby away from her.

She fell as blood exploded, white pieces of what looked like rock salt embedded in her temple. Dean cradled the small child, handing him of to his mom quickly. She grabbed him gratefully, face fading into the background as I watched the two brothers.

"Now, I know you wanted me strung up all nice and pretty on your meat hooks, but that just ain't gonna happen right now." Dean grumbled, boots thudding on the floor as he walked in a circle around Meg. She snarled, weakly moving, and I was worried she was going to make another attempt to attack them.

"No, honey," he said sarcastically. "No bye bye black smoke escape pod for you."

Her eyes went wide as she saw the debris around her, struggling again furiously.

Sam, while ripping apart the ceiling, fighting demons and keeping track of his brother, had apparently done one more thing. I didn't understand until Dean spoke, however.

"Yep," he said, walking around the wood and pieces of pipe that littered the ground around her. "Devil's trap. Cause we knew you were coming, you black eyed bitch."

I realized the wood had fallen in a symbol, a sort of star like I saw on old metal bands t shirts, enclosed in a star. And, apparently, a star that demons couldn't cross.

Dean was smirking. And in the hour I'd known these two men, smirks were never good for the demons involved.

"Hit it, Sammy." he said, eyes still tracking Meg as he gestured towards his brother.

Sam stepped forward, Latin words flowing from him as he circled Meg, who began screaming in pain.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOO!"

Sam continued, and Dean spoke over the thrum of his voice.

"Tell everyone down there the Winchesters say hi."

She growled, head turning unnaturally as she twisted in her small space.

"WAIT!" she screamed, and was released, chest heaving as Sam stopped, eyes slinking back to Dean's.

"What?" he asked coldly.

"I can tell you...how to stop..the deal. Dean's deal." she said weakly.

Dean looked dubious, and Sam even more so.

"As if we'd trust a demon. Nice try. What next, telling us we need to become fairies or drink blood or something?"

he chuckled bitterly. Sam looked slightly thoughtful, but his face shut down again as Dean gestured.

"Finish this up." he said, turning his back on her. Sam glared at Dean as he turned, and I got the impression that Dean wasn't always in charge.

He began to chant again, Latin flowing quick, a sharp contrast to whatever the demons had been chanting minutes before.

Meg screamed, screamed and screamed until I thought her host's vocal cords would disintegrate. I had to turn away as Sam's voice rose to a crescendo, and Meg gave one final scream before it all cut off.

By the time I looked up, the water was gone. Sam was speaking to a man in a trenchcoat while Dean helped Lou up, stumbling slightly as the wound on his temple began to bleed.

Sam seemed to reach an agreement with the man, and with a swirl of his trenchcoat, disappeared. Dean noticed the movement, and looked up.

"Who was that, Sam?"

Sam's face was a lot less expressive than it should've been. "No one important, Dean." he said simply, and I ignored the looks they gave each other (more the ones Dean gave Sam) as I checked the diner over.

All the pipes were back in their places, plaster and walls completely flawless. It was like the last hour (it seemed longer) had never happened.

I gaped, embarrassed to say, and had to sit down in a newly fixed chair.

Feeling every bit the cliched batman fan I was, I asked the two of them nothing but the only thing I could think of.

"Who _are_ you guys?"

Dean smirked, opening his mouth in a way that told me he too was a movie fan, and was about to go off on a monoglogue about how they protect the night, yada yada.. Now with the lights back on, I could see the marks on Dean's cheekbones from the fight, and the lines around Sam's eyes that told me both were exhausted.

"Dean," Sam said, whapping him lightly on the arm.

He sighed. "I'm Dean, and this is my brother Sam. Pleased to meet you, Mrs..." he trailed off.,

"Crystal." Sam supplied.

I decided to pull myself together.

"I don't know what you did..." I trailed off. "But thank you. For saving us."

Something delicate came into both boy's eyes, and I almost had to look away, feeling like an intruder.

"It's nothing." said Dean, voice gruff.

Sam smiled. "You ever need anything..." he said. "Call us." Placing a card in my hands, he and Dean walked to the door, Dean picking up a bag I hadn't even realized he'd brought in with him.

The door dinged, and that was it.

_And...SCENE! _my mind thought. Did all that really happen? Were things like demons, things like Sam and Dean even real? Did it really matter anyways?

I guess the world may never know.

* * *

A/N Planning on sneaking away without reviewing? Tell me what you thought! Criticism is criticism, and I applaud all of it! :)


	4. Chapter 4

The Calm Before The Storm-Epilogue?

It'd been a couple months after the whole demonic throw down, and all was well in my diner. Since there was nothing to rebuild or fix, things carried on pretty normally after that.

No one mentioned what had happened, and I didn't bring it up. Some things you talk about, and there are some you don't. I guess this fell into the latter, and for once in my life, I felt off.

Incomplete.

I knew what was out there now, hadn't seen the full spectrum, but knew that we weren't alone. The others might try to deny it, forget about it after years of silence, but I knew I wouldn't. I guess it was the kind of job where you never truly forgot something.

The Winchesters, as far as I knew, were long gone. No signs pointed to where they'd been or where they went, but I knew they were somewhere.

Protecting us from things most didn't know were out there. And for that, I was grateful.

I had a feeling not too many were.

It was two years later I saw them again, and the world crashed around my feet again.

My granddaughter was waitressing, and I was in the back counting money when the door jingled. Two figures walked in, tall and muscular. I recognized them, even with the late sun shining in my eyes.

Darting past my granddaughter, I led them to the same booth they'd taken last time, and looked them over.

Sam was taller, had grown into himself more and looked just as good as his brother. Dean was blonde and charming as always, pretending we didn't know each other.

"Well, howdy miss! What's your name?" he asked in a overdramatic drawl.

I smiled at him, but my eyes narrowed in annoyance. Boys will be boys after all.

Sam looked up, eyes not quite as young as they used to be. I could see the lines around his eyes, small, but there. I felt like if I peered close enough, I would be able to see the power that lay hidden there.

But, that world wasn't mine, wasn't mine to go looking into or assuming things about. It wasn't like the diner, and it wasn't anything human. And these men, these two men, walked the line between our two worlds. And nobody knew.

Surprising them, I sat next to Dean, making him scoot over as I bent myself into the seat.

I opened my mouth, ready to say something, but just ended up looking at my wrinkled hands.

Sam smiled when he saw this. "I know." He said softly, almost sadly.

Dean's face got serious as well. He bent over his hands, and I saw a new scar on his left one. I realized scars were a part of their life, but it was different seeing them right next to you.

"Does it ever end?" I asked, not specifying.

Sam looked up at me, eyes pensive.

"No," he said. "It doesn't."

fin


End file.
